Midnight Promises (Sinner’s Lament #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Matteo

Ten Years Ago

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

My hands are shaking.

They warned me this would happen.

Withdrawal symptoms are a bitch, and I’m feeling every ounce of them. You would think it would be over by now, but it’s not. As the last of the alcohol leaves my system, it leaves its bloody mark, taunting me with its absence, and promising just one more shot would take it all away.

The urge to run out of the church and find the nearest bar is strong, but the will to stay is even stronger. Something in me is shouting that I need to be here, right now, doing what I’ve planned for years.

I look to my left and right, a line of us soon-to-be priests are kneeling at the altar, awaiting what will be the most important moment of our lives. The day we turn ourselves over to something bigger than ourselves, profess our commitment and faith to God.

For as long as we may live.

I’m still trembling, certain I’m sweating buckets, and smelling of the dive bar I found myself in yesterday. Last night was the last time, or at least that’s what I told myself. No . It will be. It must be. There’s no room for vices in the life I’m about to choose.

Not even Jacob.

Jacob .

Last night was the last time for us too.

I have no idea what possessed me to start something with someone so close to my ordination. There was just a call to be near him, that beautiful man with those big brown eyes and shaggy blond hair. We were together for months, reveling in each other’s bodies, taking from each other every inch of our souls. I can feel the ghost of his fingertips on my hips, the brush of his lips against my neck, the overwhelming feeling of being full and?—

No. Last time. Last night. Last encounter where I give myself over to carnal pleasure and forsake the very vow I’m about to make.

There’s no longer room in my life for anything besides Him.

I look to my left. The bishop is at the end of the line, laying his hands upon the first soon-to-be priest, and my pulse quickens.

I was a lost soul when I turned to the church, drowning in the sweet call of alcohol, doing anything to chase my next high. The church took me in, nurtured me, and molded me into a man of the Word. They were the ones that pulled me out of the depths of Hell and into the light. How could I not give myself to them in turn for all that they’ve done for me?

I’m young, only twenty-five, and most say I have my whole life ahead of me. Jacob thinks it’s a mistake. He begged me last night to leave with him, choose him, love him.

“Is this the kind of life you want? Wouldn’t you be so much happier with me?”

That’s the thing. I don’t know if I would. Who’s to say Jacob and I wouldn’t separate, that I wouldn’t turn to my old escapes and drink myself to an early grave? I have nothing but my faith to hold onto, and I know a life devoted to Him is a long and content life.

“But I love you, Matteo. Don’t you love me too?”

When he spoke those words, I reached into the deepest parts of myself, and I was consumed with the overwhelming urge to fall on my knees for him. While I didn’t allow myself to admit it, I love him too.

I love everything about him, from the way he smiles to how he says my name. The little chuckles he gives me when we’re lying in bed together after having fucked for hours and how he makes me pancakes in the morning. Everything about him is perfection. My love for him?—

No.

My love of Him is stronger than my love for anything else.

The bishop has moved on to the next man, getting closer and closer to me, and I swallow dryly.

Fuck, but how can I know for sure? How can I dedicate my life to something that may just be bullshit? Wouldn’t God want me to be happy? Wouldn’t He think choosing a life of loving someone is a calling in itself?

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the bishop’s presence right next to me, knowing that at any moment it’ll be my turn.

What if I just left right now? What if I ran? Went back to Jacob’s apartment, threw myself in his arms, and begged him to love me forever?

I can taste the alcohol on my tongue as I shake my head. My hands clench into fists at my sides. Love isn’t… The only love I can count on is right in front of me, surrounding me, inside the mosaic church walls where I’ll spend the rest of my life. Jacob can be fleeting, love can be a myth, but God…

God will never leave me.

I open my eyes when the bishop stands in front of me. He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a look of understanding, as if he knows I’m struggling right at the cusp of this decision. His eyes soften as they glance down at my trembling arms. He raises his hands but hesitates just before placing it on my shoulder, giving me an out.

I just wish I knew. I wish I had proof. I wish this decision could be?—

And then I feel it.

It’s… warm. The feel of it enveloping me, circling my body and almost levitating me off the floor. It’s a whisper in my ear of the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Although I can’t make out the words, I understand the message. My life has been decided for me, and there’s no turning back.

I look up at the bishop and nod. He grins as he places his hand on my shoulder and begins the prayer of ordination. All the while, there’s a small smile playing on my lips. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, now confident about what I’ve just done.

Because God spoke to me, and there will never be a greater feeling than that.